Rainy Day Feelings
Saturday morning and the skies are so swollen and gray they look painful. About 2:30 this morning, I awoke to the sound of pouring rain. I love to lay there in the darkness, listening to the speed of the rain as it quickens into a rain with no discernible breaks. When it goes from a splatter to a rush. And I don't know how long it went on, because the endless rush of it put me back to sleep within moments.
A blogger I read every day often has problems with sleep. She wakes up in the mid-night hours and her thoughts start rumbling and making noise and she can't go back to sleep. I sometimes think of those mid-night wake ups as searching hours (well, unless I've been drinking... then they are just pee breaks) because it's just you and your own searching thoughts, chasing each other around and around. You start out thinking about one thing, which has some thready link to something else, which of course puts you to thinking about that something else. It's a time when I am so honest with myself that often times there are tears and I usually end up hurt. But by morning, a fresh face has been put on it, because really, you can convince yourself of anything if given the right time of night and the right words. More often than not, they are morbid thoughts because God knows, I'm such an optimist!
Oh my goodness, I do see a stretch of blue. It's cold outside. So cold. I feel sorry for the little sister that works out in the elements, half of the time, and freezes her butt off. There's something infinitely more satisfying with outdoor work vs. indoor work, I think. I say that as I set in my warm house, with vanilla cookie candle by my side, flame dancing. But seriously, with outdoor work, not only do you get to see the animals and the sky and feel fresh air in your face but you see the end product of your toil. While us office dwellers push papers around all day and the end result is only a messy desk. Leaves something to be desired in realm of SEEING the result of your eight hours. I'm the kind of person that, in order to be fully convinced that I have done my part, I feel like I need to have a hard copy to feel and touch. I can't remember what the word is, and frankly, I am guessing it's remarkable that I might have ever known it in the first place. Some sensory sort of word, I am thinking. But anyway. Some days, the dull, un-fresh air of the office gets to me. I want to be out, with people and the animals, seeing them and feeling the bite of fall instead of sitting in my overly warm office, people stopping by maybe once every three or four hours. To me, it sometimes feels overwhelmingly isolated. So I leave the door open and people scream at me because it's almost as cold inside as it is outside, but I understand. They want to come into a place that is warm and welcoming while I want to be someplace that reminds me that I am still alive and functioning as I should - as a ranch girl.
A blogger I read every day often has problems with sleep. She wakes up in the mid-night hours and her thoughts start rumbling and making noise and she can't go back to sleep. I sometimes think of those mid-night wake ups as searching hours (well, unless I've been drinking... then they are just pee breaks) because it's just you and your own searching thoughts, chasing each other around and around. You start out thinking about one thing, which has some thready link to something else, which of course puts you to thinking about that something else. It's a time when I am so honest with myself that often times there are tears and I usually end up hurt. But by morning, a fresh face has been put on it, because really, you can convince yourself of anything if given the right time of night and the right words. More often than not, they are morbid thoughts because God knows, I'm such an optimist!
Oh my goodness, I do see a stretch of blue. It's cold outside. So cold. I feel sorry for the little sister that works out in the elements, half of the time, and freezes her butt off. There's something infinitely more satisfying with outdoor work vs. indoor work, I think. I say that as I set in my warm house, with vanilla cookie candle by my side, flame dancing. But seriously, with outdoor work, not only do you get to see the animals and the sky and feel fresh air in your face but you see the end product of your toil. While us office dwellers push papers around all day and the end result is only a messy desk. Leaves something to be desired in realm of SEEING the result of your eight hours. I'm the kind of person that, in order to be fully convinced that I have done my part, I feel like I need to have a hard copy to feel and touch. I can't remember what the word is, and frankly, I am guessing it's remarkable that I might have ever known it in the first place. Some sensory sort of word, I am thinking. But anyway. Some days, the dull, un-fresh air of the office gets to me. I want to be out, with people and the animals, seeing them and feeling the bite of fall instead of sitting in my overly warm office, people stopping by maybe once every three or four hours. To me, it sometimes feels overwhelmingly isolated. So I leave the door open and people scream at me because it's almost as cold inside as it is outside, but I understand. They want to come into a place that is warm and welcoming while I want to be someplace that reminds me that I am still alive and functioning as I should - as a ranch girl.
posted by Lori | 8:41 AM
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